Wordless Comfort
by Anime Girl23
Summary: He clung to Burt, wishing for a second that he could remember if his own dad ever held him like this. Puck/Kurt preslash


Hey, everyone! So I _finally_ managed to get something written for The Burt & Puck Bonding Campaign over on LiveJournal. If you haven't heard about it, you should check it out here (http:/ community. livejournal. puckurt/ #cutid1). As always, please review!

Disclaimer: Glee doesn't belong to me. Sadly.

Wordless Comfort  
One-shot

It happened before Glee, before he decided that, yeah, Rachel was annoying, but she wasn't _that_ bad.

It made him sick to think about it now, to look at Rachel and _know_ that he could be the thing to rip her disgustingly happy family apart.

He'd been fifteen when he cleaned the Berry's pool and let one of her dads fuck him.

Just another job.

Just another pleased customer.

He never went back to their house. Ignored every call that would come in for a follow-up. Thought that if he made Rachel's life bad enough at school that the calls would stop.

They did for a while, but then he dated Rachel for all of a week. He'd still been at the Berry home when her dads came home early. They hadn't been doing anything wrong. Rachel and he had been rehearsing when they walked in, practicing some song that Puck couldn't remember now. He got pressured into dinner.

Got cornered on his way out of the bathroom. Missed dessert because he just had to get _out_.

It wasn't because it was a guy that had pressed him against a wall.

It was because it was Rachel's fucking dad. Maybe she didn't like to think about which dad was actually hers biologically, but Puck's stomach clenched every time she looked at him with eyes that were identical to the ones that watched him every second during that fuck.

Puck didn't care. Guy or girl. Whatever. He was an equal opportunities badass. Chicks had boobs. Guys could take it harder.

So maybe he had a thing for Kurt Hummel. The guy was kind of like the gray area between the two. Feminine enough that he was kind of like a chick, but Puck had seen him in the locker room after football practice last year.

Kurt Hummel was all man under all that designer bullshit.

And, yeah, maybe he had a bit of an ulterior motive with renewing his friendship with Finn. The guy was Kurt's brother now and hanging out with Finn meant that he'd get to catch a glimpse sometimes.

He wondered if that made him a stalker.

Decided it didn't matter when Kurt made it plain that he didn't mind Puck staring at his ass. If anything, the little (okay, not little) bastard just bought his pants a size smaller.

Ass.

By the time summer rolled around after the end of their junior year, Kurt had transferred back to McKinley, dropped the too-tall-to-be-a-hobbit wannabe, and Puck had spent enough time at the Hudson/Hummel home that he practically lived there. His name ended up on the dinner clean-up roster sometime during May.

He and Burt had ended up scheduled together that night. Burt was washing. Puck was drying.

He dropped a plate when Burt asked him for his pool cleaning rates.

Memories of Mr. Berry filled his mind. The first guy he ever slept with. Nausea rose in his throat and..._no_. He couldn't sleep with another friend's dad again. Stopped sleeping with adults period after juvie. Couldn't stomach it after one of the guards and him...he didn't like to think about it.

Didn't like to think that he'd said no.

But Burt...he was supposed to be cool. Mrs. H and him were the only adults that Puck trusted _not_ to hit on him. He barely trusted Mr. Schue half the time. That guy got too inappropriate sometimes. Even for him.

He just stood there, the shattered china at his feet and Burt's hand on his shoulder.

_The hand on him pushed him against the wall and his back pressed up against the frame of what was probably a picture of Rachel. A broad chest pressed up against his. Lips touched the spot under his earlobe._

"Puck?"

"I don't do that anymore," he whispered, eyes on the floor.

"Okay?" Burt sounded confused, like he didn't understand. Puck chanced a glance at him, almost expecting to see Mr. Berry's lusty eyes on him, but they weren't. They were just Burt's worried ones, the same worried ones that had focused on him when he showed up at two in the morning, Sarah on his hip and eye swollen shut thanks to his mom's flavor of the week.

And it clicked.

Burt didn't know.

Didn't know that for three and a half years, he'd basically been the town hooker.

Didn't know that he'd fucked more adults than he had kids his own age.

Didn't know.

Just like Carole didn't. Like he'd made sure she never found out. She was like a mom to him, more of a mom than his was. He couldn't do that to her.

Tears he'd hate himself for crying later filled his eyes and his gaze shot back to his feet. His shoulders started to shake, sobs barely audible as Burt pulled him against his chest and his face got buried in the flannel Kurt bitched about.

He clung to Burt, wishing for a second that he could remember if his own dad ever held him like this.

Pushed away the thought of his dad, because life was better when he didn't think about that asshole.

They stood there until Puck's throat and head hurt. Stood there until their legs wobbled and the suds in the sink disappeared.

Burt never did ask what made him start bawling like some pussy.

Puck was grateful. If he had asked, he didn't think he would have been able to keep himself from coming clean about fucking everything. Everyone else in town knew and didn't care, but Puck was pretty sure that Burt wouldn't be cool with the idea of statutory rape.

Thought about all the times Burt had called him "son" and the way the older man had looked murderous when a tired and scared Sarah started crying about the bad man hurting her Noe-Noe.

Yeah. Definitely didn't think he'd be okay with it.

The End

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